


in medias res

by idolatry (bellmare)



Category: Original Work
Genre: Bonding, Cannibalism, F/M, NaNoWriMo 2015
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-07
Updated: 2017-02-07
Packaged: 2018-09-22 16:07:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,344
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9615374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bellmare/pseuds/idolatry
Summary: Love bites. Sometimes literally.-- Ren, Nagi.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Oh my goooodddddd this became like 50% longer when I rewrote it. It's 21 pages on Google docs.  
> Fun fact: 80% of this was written on my phone.

It It was easy enough to follow Nagi’s trail. She left thick, viscous gobbets of blood and ichor in her wake, smeared heavily across the pavement. Ren sidestepped the worst of them, but missed another; his boots squelched unpleasantly, but didn’t slip. By the time he caught up with Nagi, she'd already made quick work of their target. Unfortunately, Satevis was not very good at following directives to keep her quarry alive.

Nagi crouched below a lamppost, more demon than human. Satevis snarled at him over something large and many-limbed -- though by this point in time it was missing about half its legs and perhaps a good portion of its lower jaws were gone. Ren stepped gingerly forwards, his shoes making some rather unpalatable sounds. “Hello, Satevis,” he said.

Satevis surveyed him warily and breathed out, then turned her attention back to her meal. Something crunched and squelched unpleasantly, the sounds loud and wet against her teeth. Satevis wasn't always that messy an eater. Ichor pooled and puddles beneath her, oozing from between her teeth.

“I'm not interested in your dinner,” Ren told her. He held one hand up, walking around her in a careful circle. She growled at him some more but seemed to be mollified enough to turn her attention back to the disintegrating remains of the demon.

Ren was ready for her when she jumped. She twisted sharply, backbone stretching at an unnatural angle as she reared back from the demon to face him instead. He knew her tells almost as well as he knew his own -- he could see it in the slight tensing of her shoulders and in the angle of her head, in the calculating look in her many eyes. What he wasn't quite ready for was Satevis’ teeth, sinking into his left forearm. Surprised, Ren spat out a curse and tried to pull his hand away. Satevis growled and wrenched her head back; her teeth must have hooked on something, because Ren felt himself being pulled along.

He listed wildly to the side, attempting to free himself. Satevis’ teeth dragged along the length of his forearm and he got a brief, uninterrupted view of the bones and meat and tendon before he managed to drag his arm out of her grip. Despite himself, he tried to open and close his hand. It didn't seem to be responding. Something seemed like it moved and twitched, in the bloody mess of his arm. He decided to stop looking.

Satevis landed lightly on her feet but didn't move to attack again. Her tongue darted out and she licked his blood from her mouth. Ren laughed despite himself -- and it really was despite himself, because he'd never have laughed in a situation like this. Venant seized hold of his head and throat and barked out a sharp, mirthful sound; Satevis’ head swivelled sharply in his direction. Her many eyes slit open and her angular face split in a grin too, many rows of needle-sharp and thin teeth gleaming in the glare of the streetlights.

Ren winced, cutting out halfway through his laughing fit when his earpiece crackled with interference. Someone was shouting. “--god, what the hell, what the hell happened, are you all right? Why are you laughing?”

“I'm fine,” Ren muttered out of the corner of his mouth. “Can't talk. Bit busy with negotiation. Call back later.”

Satevis edged forwards slightly. Ren could hear the sound of her breathing, a quiet, even huff. His own was alarmingly loud and wheezing; each heaving breath was making his head spin. “Sorry, Lavi,” he said and clamped his good hand over the mouthpiece, flicking the volume controller with his thumbnail. Lavi was cut off halfway through his tirade, and Ren breathed in a small sigh of relief at the silence.

He and Satevis surveyed each other in silence, neither making the first move. Satevis’ eyes narrowed in affection or amusement or god only knew what; Ren stared back, no longer laughing. His head hurt, though not nearby as much as his hand; both throbbed viciously; both felt blazingly hot, ready to split.

 _Beloved,_ a voice that sounded like rusted metal and broken glass rasped. Satevis was still gazing at him, her posture deceptively loose and relaxed. _You tasted delicious._

Ren smiled thinly. “I'm glad.”

 _Better than the other._ Satevis lifted her head and sniffed. _Exotic. Powerful. But diluted. In a different way. I want more._

“Hm.” Ren shakily lifted his arm as though to inspect it, then decided against it. “I guess it's what you'd expect from our family.” He glanced up at her, not quite raising his head. “You want more, huh?”

 _Are you stupid?_ Venant asked, his voice scratching at the base of Ren’s skull. _Are you really that stupid, or do you have a death wish?_

_I have a plan._

_That's what they always say. Better act fast. Unless you want to give me full control._

Ren shook his head. _You might hurt her._

_She did a good enough job of that on you. I can't hold you together for much longer. You'll need to sort this out, quickly--_

Satevis moved faster than Ren anticipated, darting forwards while he was still preoccupied with his next course of action. This time she feinted a little to the right, and when he moved to intercept her she changed course abruptly. She got him by the left shoulder, teeth digging into the bone; he heard more than felt the drag and scrape. Had he not ducked to the side, she would have pinned him by the throat. With his right hand he dug for the suppressants he carried with him. The bottle slipped from his sweaty fingers and clattered against the cobblestones; Satevis started at the sound and dug her teeth in harder. Ren could feel the joint squeezing, compressing. He struggled awkwardly in an attempt to ram his right elbow into Satevis’ face, trying to knock her grip loose. To an extent he succeeded; she shifted slightly, snarling indignantly as she adjusted her grip and edged closer to his neck.

He reached down and scooped the suppressants clumsily into his palm, then unscrewed the cap with his teeth. A few of the pills tumbled out before he righted the bottle, the tiny round capsules bouncing away on the cobblestones. Ren managed to pry Satevis’ teeth apart slightly, and wedged the bottle of suppressants into the gap between her jaws. The plastic squeezed and bent, and Ren slammed his palm against the base to empty the container. More suppressant pills scattered when the bottle broke; hopefully the bulk of it went down Satevis’ throat instead of all over the street.

She pulled away, hacking and coughing, trying to spit the pills back out. Her cheek grazed Ren’s communications headset, turning the volume back on; there was a brief rush of static and feedback before the sounds sharpened into voices Ren could recognise. His head was buzzing; he could hear Val’s voice, and Frei’s. They were talking over each other; he could hear Lavi over both of them, joining into the argument. All of them seemed to be saying ‘stop’ an awful lot. “Can't talk,” he said, swaying a little as he stumbled towards Satevis. He fumbled at another set of pockets, trying to find the sealed needles and intravenous suppressants he was supposed to be carrying for emergencies. For emergencies like these. He laughed out loud and the communications line fell silent.

Frei was the first to recover. “Venant?”

Ren decided not to reply. He patted his coat pockets and various holsters down a bit more, and struck gold when he heard the crinkle of plastic wrapping.

A calmer, softer voice broke the buzzing silence on the comm line. “She overdosed, didn't she? How many?”

Ren stared down at the needles and the tiny vial of concentrated suppressants in his palm. Now came a new problem: opening the packaging and administering these with one hand. He decided replying to Rio was a far more achievable objective. “Don't know.”

“Which brilliant asshat got the bright idea of issuing her with uppers?” Frei snapped. Ren could hear the clink of metal; Frei was probably assembling and dismantling his rifle mount, more out of agitation than anything. “She shouldn't even be getting any, let alone enough to overdose on.”

“Get back,” Lavi cut in sharply. “Wait for us. Val and Lia are closest to your coordinates.”

“Bit late for that,” Ren remarked. “Unless they want to be here just to open some wrappers for me. Never thought it'd come to this. Thwarted by sealed plastic packaging.”

“Durendal, as your unit leader, I'm ordering you to--”

“Sorry, Lavi,” Ren said again. “But I'm going to have to disobey your orders just this once. No hard feelings. I guess I'm pulling rank with my family name now.” He paused. What was the appropriate thing to say in a situation like this? After some thought, he settled for “I'm sorry. I really don't like doing this.”

Lavi sighed. Over the line, it sounded like a rush of static. “You should wait for us. Val and Lia are on their way.”

“I'll be fine. Just got one more thing to do, then everything's under control. Go back to the mission.”

“There _is_ no mission. Nagi took care of their main demon. The rest fled in the direction of another team. Their problem now.” From the sound of it, Lavi said the last part through his teeth. Ren felt vaguely guilty for disrupting the job.

Someone else -- must've been Farrer, the executor who'd been assigned as their handler for the evening -- interrupted before either of them could speak. “Freikugel.”

Frei didn't quite make a rude noise, but it was a very close thing. “Yeah, what. We're in the middle of sorting some things out.”

“Shoot her.”

“You gotta be shitting me,” Frei said after he was done with his initial bout of spluttering.

“Shoot her. She's compromising the entire team and mission.”

Frei didn't reply immediately, but Ren had a pretty good idea what kind of look was on his brother’s face. A rifle spat, once, and the next moment Farrer was cursing very colourfully and eloquently. “Freikugel--”

“God, you're so damned picky,” Frei said as he ejected the spent shell. It clinked loudly against whatever parapet he’d mounted his rifle on. “What’s your problem? You told me to shoot. I shot.”

“For a sniper, you have pretty terrible aim,” someone commented very quietly; she sounded amused. It must be Rio. Ren was certain he was the only one who heard or was listening closely enough.

“Shut up, I'm an excellent sniper,” Frei hissed back. “Perfectly gauged it. Any further, and it wouldn't even have made him jump. Any closer, and I'd have shot him in the foot. Serves him right.”

Farrer was still ranting, undeterred and apparently unaware of the whispered conversation; Rio and Frei had switched to the team-only channel. Several metres ahead of Ren, Satevis lurched unsteadily to her feet, her form flickering.

“--opening fire on your handler--”

“Put a sock in it, Farrer. I mean, so what, I missed,” Frei said, sounding bored. “The chips from the pavement barely even grazed your stupid bespoke shoes. Who even wears expensive bespoke loafers out in the field? God. If it bothers you so much, next time I'll make sure to have better aim.”

“There _will_ be no next time after your hearing,” Farrer said.

“... okay. I'll bite. What hearing?”

“The hearing I will be calling for, due to you disobeying and firing at me. If you know what's good for you, _shoot who I tell you to shoot._ ”

Frei sighed with exaggerated patience. Or perhaps thinly-veiled impatience. Ren wasn't sure; it was hard to tell, over the comm line. “I'm gonna pretend I didn't hear the most stupid-ass words out of your stupid-ass mouth. You really think shooting first and asking questions later is a better idea?”

“I'll add insubordination to your list of offences--”

“Hey, Farrer, here's an idea. You can take that list and shove it up your ass,” Frei snarled. “Unless you want me to do it, because I'm gonna ram it so far up you'll be--”

Ren tuned the others out, and instead stared down at the scattered pills around him, like a tiny constellation on the cobbles. He crouched and picked two up, then dusted them off against his pants after a second thought.

Frei was still talking. “--don't know how well good ol’ Director-General Romanov would take to his beloved granddaughter being put down on your orders. Not to mention, wait, who's your superior?” Not waiting for Farrer to respond, he steamrollered on. “Oh, that's right. I'll be sure to let Kamila know you use this as a first resort. You're a shit handler, I'm sure she'll be happy to put someone else in charge instead.”

“You don't get to throw your weight and family name around whenever it conveniences you,” Farrer replied icily. “Especially given how you forfeited your right to use it when you became a Rvatsya.”

Frei laughed loudly. It sounded more like the mirthless cackle of a hyena. “Eat my entire ass, chum, if it really were that easy to disassociate myself from my family name, I'd be a lot happier. And then you could lord over me to your heart's content and we'll all join hands and sing kumbaya and call it a day and we'll both be happy chucklefucks because we both get what we want.”

Distracted, Ren attempted to open the wrappers with his teeth; the packet jostled against his mouthpiece. After several tries, he got both the vial of suppressants and the syringes unwrapped; after some consideration, he wedged the tiny bottle between his knees with some difficulty, and filled the first syringe.

The comm line had fallen silent by the time Ren finished filling the rest. He cleared his throat. “What'd I miss?”

“Lavi punched Farrer,” Rio informed him rather cheerfully.

“He wants to complain about insubordination, maybe he shouldn't try ordering my team around in front of me,” Lavi said with deceptive lightness. “I've got an image to uphold, and he knows jackshit about how things work here.”

“Lavi,” Frei said very slowly. “You never really cared what other people think of you.”

“... shut up.”

“Knocked him out cold,” Rio continued as though neither Lavi nor Frei had interrupted. “Good timing, too. Had their little spat gone on any longer, Frei might have made good on his threats to shoot Farrer himself.”

“Pity,” Ren remarked, still watching Satevis carefully. “I was thinking about strangling Farrer myself when I got back.”

“Don't be so uncivilised.”

“Oh, my apologies.” Ren tried to heave himself upright -- or at least into a slightly less lopsided position. “I'll apologise for Nagi’s hastiness, Frei’s rudeness and my own intentions first, before I strangle him.”

“Much better,” Rio said.

“... and then I shall reach down his throat and pull his lungs out through his nose and mouth, and then feed them back to him.”

Rio sighed, disparaging. “Oh, Ren. It was perfectly civilised until you had to keep talking.”

“Didn't think you'd step outta line like that,” Frei was saying to Lavi. “You'll have more red tape bullshit to go through when tonight’s over. Maybe even a disciplinary hearing of your own.”

“I'll handle whatever consequences there are,” Lavi said. He sounded remarkably calm. “If Ren thinks he has a plan and can handle it, I trust him. Not some jumped-up moron who thinks he knows better.”

Frei snorted. “Whatever, I'll have a word with Kamila or whoever Farrer’s going to complain to. She'll understand. Maybe I'll even go pay Father a visit, haven't seen the old geezer for a while. I don't think he'd like it if Ren’s sweet fiancée got offed, after all the trouble it took to set the two of them up so well.”

“Kamila hates Nagi,” Ren said. Satevis crept slowly closer to him, absently chewing on something. A piece of him, most likely. He felt more than vaguely nauseous and light-headed. “Or rather, she's indifferent. And you hate Father.”

Frei made a dismissive sound. “Farrer doesn't know that. Nor does he need to. Besides, even if Kamila doesn't care too much about Nagi, she wouldn't approve of anyone shooting contractors right off the bat without trying all other avenues first. Maybe I'll even bring it up with Eri. Nothing shuts people up like having her attend a meeting, you know how uncomfortable she makes everyone. You also know how much she hates having her precious contractors killed right off the bat like that.”

“Right. Precious.” Ren stared down at the syringes clamped in his sweaty palm, and carefully slipped them back into one of his pockets. He knew Cero was on surveillance, and would be reporting whatever was happening; likewise, he could almost imagine Lavi’s eyes popping out with a mixture of disbelief and confusion at the sight.

True enough, Frei asked the question everyone was probably aching to ask. “Uh, so what the hell are you doing? Are you trying to accidentally stab yourself with suppressants when Satevis knocks you on your ass?”

“No, but it did occur to me that she'd try to knock me on my ass if I likewise tried to give her the shot. I need to even the playing field a little. Two ought to be enough. I should go over the edge with just two.”

Frei didn't speak for a very long time. “And what if you end up like her? Look, I'm not big on being told to shoot either of you if I can absolutely avoid it.”

Ren ignored him and slipped the pills into his mouth. “Lavi?”

Lavi breathed out sharply. “Fine. Green light. Two shouldn't be enough for you to go too far into the deep end, but I’m still sending someone over in case something goes wrong. Understand? Rio’s on her way.”

“Understood.” Ren could feel the pills dissolving under his tongue. He rolled them around in his mouth, then set his back teeth against the hard capsules. “Thank you.”

“Thank me later.”

Ren nodded -- even though he knew they couldn't see him -- and turned his head sharply to the side; he could hear his neck bones clicking. The pills tasted like blood and metal; his throat was too dry for him to swallow, and he almost coughed the ground-up mess back up.

The shift started on his left side, prioritising regeneration -- not that it would do him much good at this point in time. Hunger gnawed at the pit of his stomach, and at the base of his skull, an immediate effect from trying to repair the damage. Ren wriggled his fingers, and was vaguely aware of them responding with stiff, painful hesitation. It was a start, then.

It would be easy, to let Venant overpower him; they'd be more than a match for Nagi and Satevis then. He hadn't taken enough stimulants to go anywhere near as berserk as Nagi had, but there was always a fine line with these things.

\--a line Ren realised he was fast approaching, when he found himself thinking about his teeth against Satevis’ throat, feeling her pulse against his tongue. He'd always liked the soft warmth of her skin, strongest along the soft curve of her shoulder and neck, and the insides of her wrists, just beneath the heels of her palms. He’d never eaten another person before -- just other demons; their insides were different, he was sure. All their flesh felt and tasted exactly the same. With humans, he knew it'd be different -- the heavy richness of the liver, the chewy muscle of the heart, the thin membranes of the lungs.

Some things were the same between humans and demons, though. The taste and smell of emotions rolled through both, intoxicating and pungent. Ren never liked the flavour of fear, or anger; they made the meat almost acidic. _Rupture the heart,_ Venant murmured. _Before they have a chance to anticipate anything._

Ren shook his head wildly, trying to dislodge Venant’s influence. There was a knot of pain spreading from his hand to his shoulder and lodging beneath his breastbone -- just enough for him to latch onto, and shake him out of the blind hunger. Heaving and retching, he shakily lifted his left hand. He thought he could see through it at parts, through hanging strips of torn and shredded skin and muscle. His thoughts lurched away again, filling his mind with images of attacking Nagi and Satevis, feeling her blood rushing hot and heavy against his teeth.

Satevis turned her full attention to him, spitting out the scrap she'd been chewing on. Heart pounding, Ren pushed the side of his wrist against his mouth and bit into it, worrying at the bone and tendon.

It wasn't nearly enough. He instead chewed at the fleshy base of his thumb, trying to bite hard enough to force any other response from Venant, to draw his attention away from thoughts of returning Satevis’ favour and going for the throat.

His stomach lurched alarmingly; panicking, he leaned away from his hand, spitting out blood and scraps of flesh. The pain, keen and sharp and burning at first, had ebbed slightly to a persistent throb.

That cleared his mind somewhat -- enough to force a partial shift, and intercept Satevis as she struck. He caught her by the jaw, the impact jarring the length of his arm and sending another sharp burst of pain up his elbow and shoulder. The first row of her teeth sank into his palm; the second row scraped against his mangled fingers, and Ren dug Venant’s claws harder into Satevis’ jaws. He could feel the joints crack alarmingly loudly, but at least nothing gave way. Dimly, Ren was aware of a loud, angry keening; it sounded like rusted metal tearing. He wasn't sure whether it was coming from Satevis, or himself.

She tore blindly at him, trying to dislodge him while simultaneously digging her teeth deeper into his hand. Ren tried to duck away from her reach; she lashed out and her claws grazed him, catching him along the side of the face. Nothing deep, just enough to sting.

With his free hand, Ren slapped at his pockets, then drew out the syringes, clumsily wedging them between his fingers; he had no idea how well any of this would work, let alone where to aim for. Satevis lunged towards him again, this time gouging a clean line above his right eye. Ren almost froze in place, before thinking better of it.

Panting, he blinked a few drops of sweat or blood -- or both -- out of his eyes. His first attempt at getting the needles in place nearly resulted in him stabbing the back of his hand. The second was marginally more successful, and he managed to ram them into the side of her neck. It wasn't quite perfect -- more than one didn't quite enter at the right angle.

Satevis flinched when he pushed down the plungers with his thumb and bit down harder on his hand, her teeth lodging between his knuckles, gnawing on the bones and tendon. Ren stared down at her. “What do you think you're doing?”

She shut her eyes and growled a little. With some difficulty, Ren extricated his hand out of her grasp, and this time she didn't resist. His hands and fingers were slick and sticky with blood and spit; for a moment, Ren vaguely contemplated wiping it against his coat or pants, then decided against it. Satevis sagged heavily against him, leaning her full weight against his side. Ren staggered a little and dragged them towards the side of a nearby building and sank slowly to his feet, trying not to jar her. With his good hand he shifted Satevis slightly until she was lying down, her head resting in his lap.

“Ah,” he said and tried to get up again, inadvertently brushing his thumb against the volume control of his headset.

“Ah? _Ah?_ Is that all you have to say for yourself?” Frei demanded. “My god, HQ just sent visuals, you look like you stuck your arm down a meat grinder. Or a garbage disposal. What are you doing, trying to stand up again?”

Ren grunted as he wrestled off his coat while taking care not to jostle Satevis. “Hm. I didn't think this through.”

He managed to pull the coat off his right arm -- but opted to leave whatever was left of it to cover the worst that was the mess of his left side -- and wadded it up, pushing it under Satevis’ head.

She shifted slowly back, and Ren found himself absently rubbing the side of her neck, as though that would help the suppressants work faster. “You put us all in quite the bind, Svetlya--.”

Someone coughed and then cleared their throat very loudly over the comm line, which Ren forgot was still open. “Oh. Sorry.”

“No, it's fine.” Frei lowered his voice. “Just, uh, reminding you that we're, um, still here. Worrying about the two of you. Thought you might want a private moment. I'd want some time to myself, too.”

“Ah. Yes. Where are Val and Lia?”

Lavi broke off from his loud and determinedly tuneless humming. “They ran into the rest of the targets. Helping out the other team now. Rio should be with you guys soon.”

“Oh. Good.” Ren stared down at the top of Nagi’s head. “My apologies about earlier. Could you give me a minute?”

“What?”

“A few minutes. Until Nagi wakes up.”

“Of course, sure.” Lavi hesitated. “I'll tell Cero to pull your surveillance, since you guys are out of trouble. Good work. Val, Lia, and Rio will rendezvous with you when they're done. I'll tell them to stay back until you guys are ready to go.”

“Much appreciated. Thank you.” Ren turned the headset off. He started humming after a while, trying to remember what songs Nagi had been listening to recently. “Any time now, Svetlyachok,” he said, brushing some of the hair out of her face. “The others will be here soon.”

He absently ran his hand through her hair, threading his fingers through it. She dyed it about a week ago, the colour now faded to something resembling cotton candy -- white, shot through with pale pink and purple. Ren squinted down at the back of his shaking hand, then attempted to wipe the worst of the blood from Nagi’s face.

At least the bleeding had stopped, though there was no regenerating from this. Not for the first time, Ren wished Lavi were here. At the very least, Lavi would've been able to cauterise the wounds far earlier.

Lost in thought, he didn't realise Nagi was finally started to stir, spitting a few errant, sticky strands of hair out of her mouth. For several seconds she didn't say anything, staring unsteadily at some point just past the top of his head.

Ren slowly pulled his hand back. “ _Zdravstvuj_. How are you feeling?”

“Ugh,” was the first word out of her mouth. “What happened?”

Ren fidgeted a little. “Nothing of importance.”

Nagi frowned at him, eyes still half-shut. She turned over a little, huddling towards him. “Something must have happened. You called me Sve--”

She choked a little bit and tried to sit up. Ren flattened his hand against her shoulder and pushed her back down.

“Durendal! Let me up!” She redoubled her efforts, trying to slap his hand away. “You never call me by my name. Not on the field. Never out here. _What happened?_ ”

“Calm down. I just gave you some suppressants. It'll be best if you didn't try to make sudden movements. You'll just fall over.” Ren paused. “And then I will laugh.”

“Suppressants!” Nagi repeated loudly. “What fo--oh.”

“I won't actually laugh,” Ren said. “If it's all the same to you, I think I just want to go to sleep now.”

Nagi grabbed him by the shoulder and shook him a little. “Don't you dare fall asleep on me. What happened? What did I do? What did _you_ do?”

He slid his gaze away from hers. “I told you. I gave you some suppressants.”

“Some?”

“... a lot,” he amended. “You may have trouble with tasks involving fine motor skills for the next few days. And maybe getting out of bed. You'll probably feel very tired for a while. When the and retrieval show up they'll want to take you to the treatment facility.”

Nagi’s mouth dropped open. “I'm sorry,” Ren said. “I had to. You went a little out of control.”

If it was possible, her mouth opened even wider. “I _what?_ ”

“You don't remember?”

“No?!”

Ren moved his good hand out from under Nagi’s head, and rubbed his eyes. “You took some stimulants and ran off after the demon. I was the closest, so I had to bring you back. I hope you understand.”

Nagi squinted a little more at him, trying to get a better look. Ren attempted to position himself against the glare of the streetlights above, so that she couldn't get too good a look. Her hand shot out with alarming speed and accuracy, catching hold of his chin. Her thumb brushed against the cut on his cheek. Shakily, she stretched out her other hand to trace the jagged, bloody line on his brow and forehead. “You're hurt.”

Ren averted his eyes. “Just a scratch. A few scratches.”

She ignored him, and grabbed on to his shoulder to lever herself upright, then let go when he winced. “Wait, what--”

Before he could stop her, she turned her head and noticed the dark, red dampness of his coat sleeve. Some of it was stuck to her hair and the back of her head. “Oh, god. I thought it was a bad dream. I thought I was dreaming.” She tugged at his artfully wadded-up coat, stared at what she uncovered, hastily arranged it back in place, then slumped down beside him.

They were both silent for what felt like forever. Ren wished he had a watch. He’d been wearing one on his left wrist. Perhaps Satevis had eaten it, along with what felt like half his arm.

“Czes, you _liar_ ,” Nagi said very quietly, refusing to look at him. “How could you?”

He didn't reply. Perhaps that wasn't the best response, because she continued with, “how could you let me do that?”

She punched him in the shoulder. Thankfully, she was sitting on his right side. She punched him again. “What were you thinking? You should've waited! For the others! You should've let-- oh, god, Farrer was there. I know what Farrer’s like. Farrer should've ordered someone to stop me.”

“I know what Farrer’s like, too,” Ren said. “He wanted to shoot you.”

“Then you should've let him! God. Others have been killed for less.”

“It's unsustainable,” Ren said absently. He had no idea how much time had passed, and whether Lavi was getting tired of waiting for his very long private minute to be over. “And by right, Farrer should only be authorising orders like those if there's no other option.”

“Farrer’s a blowhard,” Nagi said thickly. Ren offered her a rather less bloody corner of his coat sleeve to wipe her eyes with. “And maybe a termination order would've been too extreme for anyone else. But not us, Czes. You know it. _I_ know it. Farrer knows it. He may be a jerk, but he's not stupid.”

“Lavi would beg to differ.”

“Yeah.” Nagi knotted and unknotted his sleeve. “I don't think he liked it, having some stranger swanning in and bossing everyone around. Rosier would've been better.”

Ren sighed gustily. His entire chest ached. “Either way. Thank you for getting rid of the demon. It was an unforeseen complication, but at least it got sorted eventually.”

“ _Unforeseen complication_ ,” Nagi repeated incredulously. “I attacked you, Czeslaw! What part of that do you not understand?!”

“I still have most of my arm,” Ren said before he could stop himself. “It's not like I needed the whole thing, anyway. Satevis was most complimentary. She said I was delicious.”

“Stop.” Nagi flattened her hand over his mouth. “Stop talking. I don't understand how you can be so casual about this. I ... I _ate_ \--”

Her eyes widened and she lurched away from him, eyes darting back and forth. Ren rearranged a drooping corner of his coat, that was threatening to bare an alarming amount of his mangled arm. “I'm afraid I don't follow. Sveta, you've eaten other demons before. Sometimes you also _are_ a demon. It's not that different.”

“I haven't eaten other people!” Nagi burst out with surprisingly strength and volume. “And I'm still a person! First and foremost! Before I'm a contractor!”

When he doesn't reply, she slumped back down next to him. “Farrer was right. We _are_ monsters. Especially since we chose this ourselves. We knew what we were getting into, unlike some of the others. Sure, as contractors we only eat other demons. But where's the line, Czes? Where does it stop? What's stopping us from eating other people, too?”

“If it helps you feel any better,” Ren said, studiously trying to avoid her eyes, “I’d much rather it have been you than anyone else. If I had to choose, I mean. I'm glad the first person or anything to take a bite out of me was you.”

Nagi laughed. There was a note of mounting hysteria in her voice. “Oh, yeah, that makes me feel so much better.”

“Well, it should. I don't particularly like the thought of being eaten, least of all by some strange enemy demon I don't even know. Now please stop making such a fuss; it's making me feel somewhat hurt.”

That gave Nagi pause. “Huh?”

“It's like you're going for dinner at an expensive restaurant and I’m the chef, and you sent back the dish because you don't like it. It's a little disheartening.”

Nagi rested her head on his shoulder. “But you're not food,” she said. “... and you're such a pervert, you know that?”

Ren was somewhat glad the communications line was turned off. “I beg your pardon?”

“Like you've actually thought about it before. Who you want to be eaten by.”

“Oh.” Ren said. “I don't exactly have fantasies of being eaten, if that's what you're implying.”

Nagi seemed to deflate somewhat. “I'm so sorry, Czes.”

“It's nothing,” Ren said. Nagi slid her hand over his and squeezed his fingers. “Really,” he added, hoping she would believe him. Venant had stopped the regeneration a long time ago; perhaps he'd have to be like Eri or Lavi, and need grafts or healing arrays all the time. Neither seemed like particularly appealing options. He had no idea whether the flesh would even grow back, whether the nerves and tendon would ever reconnect. “The only bright side is that I won't have to write reports for a while.”

“You're right-handed,” Nagi pointed out.

Ren lifted his right hand to give it a once-over. “Oh. So I am. What a pity. You should've aimed for my right hand instead.”

“Shut up,” Nagi said. Then, she gingerly leaned forwards to touch his left shoulder. “Do you think it'll recover?”

“I don't know. I guess we'll figure that out over the next few weeks or so. I'm still human enough that demon-inflicted injuries shouldn't have as bad an effect of me, as opposed to if I were an actual demon.”

“Really?”

Ren tried to shrug. “Maybe. Though it probably won't be the same as it was before. Human enough to still be able to heal, demon enough that I can't fully regenerate. It'll be interesting.”

“I'm sorry,” Nagi said again. She wiped her nose on a corner of his coat.

“Maybe I can do something like Eri. Get grafts or something.”

“I could fashion a tourniquet out of your belt,” Nagi said without much conviction.

“No thank you,” Ren said. “I’d like to keep my limbs relatively intact, if it’s all the same to you. Not get rid of them entirely.”

“It’s a lesser evil than bleeding to death,” Nagi pointed out. “And you can get a cool prosthetic.”

Given the current condition of his arm and the tenuous future usability of it, maybe it was an option to reconsider. Ren told her as much.

Nagi opened her mouth as though to argue against it, then wilted again. “Maybe I should put myself on suspension.”

Ren shook his head, and regretted it immediately. He felt more than vaguely nauseous. “No. Don't do that. The team’s already down by one because of me. They still need you around.”

“And whose fault was it?” She wrung her hands. “Farrer really should just have gotten his way.”

Ren snorted. “Farrer doesn't know anything. Not what it's like to be like this. What was it like for you? Could you feel anything?”

Nagi shook her head. “Not really. But that's the thing, isn't it? In the Garden, at the academy, everything's different. You read and hear about case studies. But I think the experience varies from person to person, too.” She broke off, staring into the distance, her eyes growing unfocused. Her voice was soft. “I guess for me it felt like I was sleeping. Or dreaming. Sometimes, you know when you're dreaming and you know you're dreaming? And you're running, trying to escape from something. Everything feels like it's moving in slow motion. Everything’s kinda dull and blurry, like you're underwater. That's what it's like.”

“I've heard about it.” Ren stretched his neck slightly and shivered when the bones creaked and ground at the base of his skull, the sound alarmingly loud.  “Klesha Syndrome. You can get caught and dragged into the undertow of the Sea of Samsara if you stay there for too long. It's a good thing I pulled you out in time.”

“I had no idea.” Nagi shook her head slowly, groggily. “I mean, I know Klesha Syndrome happens when you overdose on uppers too often or stay evoked for far too long, but I just. I didn't think it would happen to me. I thought I could control it.”

“You can't,” Ren said. It came out sharper than he intended. “Nobody is above it. Just ... don't do it again. It shouldn't happen normally, but things work differently for people like you, me, and Frei. For people like Val, or Lavi, or Lia and Rio, it's different. Takes much more for them to get Klesha Syndrome. Even before that, they need to use stimulants because their conduits aren't as fine-tuned, and need the extra push to get over the edge. Even then, doing it too often isn't good on them, either.”

“Huh?” Nagi mumbled. Her head drooped a little, her eyes half-open. “What do you mean?”

“Short circuit,” Ren said. It made him uncomfortable, just saying it. “It's hard on them to attempt full evocation without the help from stimulants. It's like forcing power through poor-quality conductors.”

“I always thought it was awful, calling people that,” Nagi murmured, a little indistinctly. “Like they're just parts. Like they can be replaced.”

“I know.” Ren stared down at the top of her head, then rested his hand on it. Nagi didn't budge. “That's what people use to refer to contractors sometimes, when they think nobody's listening. Or if they think nobody cares.”

“I've never heard that before.”

“Of course you haven't,” Ren said before he could stop himself. “Even as a contractor, even when you're supposed to have abandoned your name, you do not have that luxury. Not as long as everyone still knows you're Svetlana Romanova.”

She lifted her chin slightly. “And yet, _you_ know about all this. _You’ve_ heard all these things before. Even though everyone should still know _you're_ Czeslaw Razumovsky, and they shouldn't be that disrespectful. Not to your face. Not within earshot.” Her expression twisted strangely, then settled back into a sleepy blankness “Even if they know what you are, they can't forget who you are and who you're connected to. Not that easily.”

Ren felt the smile sliding along the corner of his mouth. “But I hear a lot of things. I blend in better than you, Svetochka. I hear and see a lot of things, and what I know is this: in the end, you're nothing but a dog or a tool. Scarcely more than a demon.”

“They never taught me any of this, either.”

Ren slowly patted her head, running his fingers through her hair. “It's not something they tell you. Or teach you. Just things you hear from other people. It's just slightly better for us because we have the family name to serve as a buffer against the worst of it.”

“Our family name seems to insulate against the worst of everything. The perceptions of other people. The power and potential we have because of our background.” Nagi trailed off slightly. It seemed like the suppressants were taking deeper hold. Ren hoped Val and Lia would be coming along soon; he was in no shape to walk far, let alone haul Nagi back himself.

He had to keep her awake, at least until retrieval arrived. Ren rubbed her back. “For some contractors, they may not necessarily have the right predisposition for it. Thaumaturgy is one thing, but using yourself as an anchor and vessel is another. Not everyone handles that well. Evoking’s like passing a current through a wire, and if the wire isn't equipped to handle that kind of charge, it melts. That's why a lot of people need the extra push from stimulants to get them though evocation, but when they crash, they crash badly.”

Nagi shifted against him. “I didn't pay attention during physics, but I'm pretty sure wires melt because of too much resistance.”

Ren shrugged. “Same principle. For you and me and Frei, there's less resistance in our wires, so it flows through us easier. We evoke easier, faster. We don't need to rely on stimulants to reach optimum potential. What I'm saying is, we could've avoided this.”

Nagi opened her mouth, looking like she was going to apologise again. He continued before she could say anything else. “I'm not saying it's your fault or anything. But sometimes, it's just something to remember, I guess. Something to think about. Just like how sometimes, I think people like Lavi, or Val, or Rio and Lia were much better off doing what they would've trained for otherwise.”

Nagi’s eyes fluttered open; she seemed to have difficulty focusing on something to look at. “I remember,” she mumbled into his sleeve. “Lavi said he was going to be an executor. Rio was gonna be an alchemist, and Val wanted to be a magus. God. Can you imagine? And _Lia_ was a summoner adept, for god’s sake.”

Ren laughed. It made his ribs hurt. How strange; he didn't remember Satevis getting a good hit in. “Lavi as an executor. I always thought he'd be too soft for that kinda thing. He's got the wits and strength and leadership ability, but not the ruthlessness. He wouldn't have lasted a year. The job would've eaten him alive.”

“Maybe not,” Nagi said. She fidgeted against him. “He's stubborn. Who knows? Maybe he'd have been our handler instead of Farrer. More importantly: you don't think Lavi has it in him to be ruthless? Not even a little bit? C’mon.” She shook her head. “You don't get this far in the Bureau with just luck, talent, and ability. He climbed fast and far, for a contractor. Especially without special connections. Well, until Ymir.”

“Fine. Maybe I'm wrong. But even apart from Lavi, things would've been so different for the others, too. Rio might've been in charge of reprogramming some of our equipment.” Ren smiled a little. He was enjoying this foray into an alternate life they may all have had. “Maybe even working with Cero. And I guess we might've seen Val around at some point, too.”

“I guess.” Nagi moved again, apparently trying to find a more comfortable part of him to lean against.

Ren sighed. “It'd have been better for them. Not becoming Rvatsya.”

“We'd never have met them, though. I know how selfish it sounds, but I'm just saying. Things would've been different, had we all ended up going down different paths.”

Ren sighed. “If you'd done what your family wanted to, too.”

“I don't regret a thing,” Nagi said. “But I just wanted to prove my worth. You know? I know a lot of people haven't forgotten who I am. They know who I am because of my family, even if I chose to leave my name behind. I want to prove I can do things like everyone else, and I'm not expecting to cruise to the top just because of who I know.”

“I know, Svetochka.”

“I'm not done,” she said with a trace of irritation. “And I also know the others feel kinda pressured to live up to the whole stupid deal of having me in the same team. They think they have to work extra hard to keep up with me, otherwise it looks like they're hanging on to my coattails.” She paused. “Well, and yours and Frei’s too.”

“Our coattails aren't as impressive to hang on to,” Ren said. “Less expensive material.”

“I just don't want them to feel obligated to put themselves through a hard time because of me or who I am,” Nagi continued as though he hadn't said anything. “I've seen their files, I know how difficult this is for them. And that's not even all. You know what sucks? About all this? Being a contractor?”

“... I thought those files were meant to be confidential. Moreover--” Ren resisted the urge to gesture at his hand. “I can think of a lot of things. But please, do feel free to enlighten me. I'll be here all night.”

Nagi ignored him. “You don't eat, you go berserk. You eat too much, you also go berserk. You don't eat the right thing, you go berserk. Normal food isn't enough to fill that hunger in you anymore. You're always hungry, and the worst part is not even knowing what you're hungry for.” Her voice rose slightly. “I ate that demon. I ate _you._ And the worst is that I'm still hungry. I think I've forgotten what it's like, to not feel hungry all the time. And that's not even all. After this, after tonight, the line between me and Satevis feels thinner than ever. Like there's not even a glass wall between us. It might as well be like rice paper. You can see the shadow of something stirring against the light, and you know it's your own, but the worst part is that it does whatever it wants.”

She fell silent; her cheeks were flushed and her eyes too bright, and Ren felt an edge set into his teeth. Nagi was still riding a residual high from Satevis, even after the suppressants. Enough emotion could do that, he supposed. Trigger a residual evocation. “Sometimes,” he said, trying to keep his voice as calm and neutral as possible, “I don't know where I end, or where Venant begins. Or whether we can really be considered separate, at this point.”

“How do you control it,” she asked; she was talking slower now, but not out of drowsiness. Ren could hear a careful sort of deliberation in her voice. “The hunger. The way it chews at the pit of your stomach and the base of your skull.”

“I don't know. Tune it out, I guess.”

“Even now.” She turned to face him squarely and her eyes were very bright and very focused. Ren felt his heart rate spike slightly. “Especially after what it took to get me back. Especially after the ... the regeneration. I noticed it stopped. There's nothing to fuel it.”

“Nothing more it can do, anyway. The rest is up to the wonders of medicine and clerics.”

Nagi leaned forwards slightly, and rested her hand on his wrist. Ren noticed it was his left one; she seemed oblivious to the blood smearing on her palm. She squeezed his wrist slightly, and he suppressed a sharp breath. “In the end, demons still obey the rules of magic.”

“What do you mean?” Ren asked through his teeth. Nagi smiled; he noticed she wasn't quite looking him in the eye.

“You know exactly what I mean. Tell me.”

“The first rule,” Ren began, cutting off when Nagi leaned closer to him, putting her weight on his wrist. “Magic cannot be created or destroyed, but it can be changed. For every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction.”

“Very good.” She moved closer; with her other hand, she was loosening her collar. “I hate seeing you like this. Because of me. Because of what I did. So I'm giving you a proposition.”

Ren had a pretty good idea what kind of proposition she wanted to make. He was just more surprised she would suggest it, given Satevis’ instincts of self-preservation.

“Eat me.”

Ren blinked. “If it's all the same to you, I’d rather not.”

Nagi ignored him. She shuffled closer, taking his right hand and placing it on her shoulder. She leaned towards him, close enough for him to smell the blood and copper on her breath, close enough for him to feel and sense the muted shift and hum of Satevis beneath her skin. Venant stirred again, sluggish and uncertain. Nagi’s hand slid down the side of his face, her palm pressed against his jaw. She ran her thumb along the corner of his mouth, and when he didn’t move away, she slid it in, her thumbnail scraping against his teeth.

He breathed in sharply when she kissed him; when he ran his tongue over his teeth, he could taste his own blood. Something stirred in Nagi’s eyes when he pulled away; she stiffened when he set his teeth against her skin, where her jaw met her ear. Her nails dug into his shoulder when he bit down -- not enough to break the skin, but just enough to mark it. She moved her hand and flattened it against the back of his neck, a warning. “Keep going,” she said.

Ren could feel her pulse, slow and even against his tongue -- too slow, from the suppressants; it was enough to bring him back to the reality of their situation. Perhaps disappointed at his inaction, Nagi tilted her head back, and wound her fingers through his hair. Her nails scraped against his scalp. “Does it hurt?” Ren asked her, lips brushing against her throat. He tugged at her hair; it was damp from sweat and blood; when he moved his hand, he inadvertently pulled her hair loose from whatever hairdo she'd put it in. After the previous furore, Ren was hard-pressed to recognise just what style it was. When she didn't respond he slid his hand down her back, resting it at the base of her spine; she arched her back, pressing against him, then slowly pulled away.

When she looked at him, he could see himself reflected twofold in Satevis’ eyes. “No,” she said, the words heavy and drawn-out. For an instant, he thought she was going to transform again; that, perhaps, the suppressants wasn’t enough, not enough to quell Satevis entirely.

She sagged against him suddenly, slumping over his shoulder. “It doesn’t hurt,” she said slowly, as though testing out the feel of each word in her mouth. “But I ... huh. What just happened?”

Ren sighed. “That’s no good.” With a great effort, he pushed Venant back down. “You’ll make me sleepy, too. If I eat you.”

“I ... what?” She gazed up at him, narrowing her eyes. “Nothing,” Ren said.

Nagi swayed slightly when she glared at him. She tried to grab his shirt, missing several times before she settled for putting her hands on either side of his face and pushing her forehead against his. Her skin too cool to the touch. “Raincheck?”

“Hm?”

“Raincheck. For this. Later.”

“Maybe.” Ren had no idea what she was talking about, or whether she even knew what she was suggesting a raincheck for.

Nagi was silent for several minutes, though she’d now managed to move herself off him and was now mostly leaning against the building wall instead. “We should head back. Meet up with the others.”

“Ah. Yes.” Ren’s thumb hovered over the power button “I should be getting back to them about that. I told Lavi I just needed a minute.”

“A minute!” Nagi said and laughed awkwardly. “World’s longest minute, right there.”

“Pretty much. So ... all ready to go? Feeling human again?”

Nagi shook her head, still propped against the wall. “Barely. But I guess we better get going. How’re you feeling? Can you stand?”

Ren gave her a sidelong look. “Why?”

“I’ll carry you,” Nagi said without any trace of irony.

Ren shook his head. “Nice try, but maybe try getting up yourself first, before making any grand offers of assistance.” He decided not to mention he was both taller and heavier than her, and watched as she started rummaging through her pockets, finally unearthing a slim pouch of some kind. “What’s that?”

“Damage control,” she said, and plucked out a sheaf of bandaids. She didn’t look as pleased with them as she could have. They were light green, with an assortment of bean-shaped dogs frolicking and gambolling on them. “Very cute,” Ren commented.

“At least you’ll look cute when retrieval gets to you,” Nagi said as she unwrapped one of the bandaids. “Maybe you’ll even give them a good laugh, and they’ll give you a discount. Or a nicer room. Or more flexible visiting hours.” She paused. “Or cuter nurses.”

“I don’t need any of those.” Ren held still as she wiped the blood from the cut above his eye, then carefully stuck the bandaid on. “But I guess anyone who sees my arm first will need a good laugh after.”

“That’s the spirit.” Nagi repeated the process with the cut on his cheek. Neither of them chose to mention what had just transpired, moments earlier. “There, that’s your face taken care of. You’re a regular ladykiller.”

“Hm.” Ren turned his headset back on. Before he could say anything, Rio ambled over from somewhere across the street, coat slung over her right arm.

“Evening, lady, gent,” she said, smiling faintly as she glanced between them. She rather tactfully chose not to comment on the blood-soaked, tattered mess of his coat, now wrapped over the equally blood-soaked, tattered mess of his left arm, nor the cute pastel puppy bandaids on his face, though Ren wouldn’t really have cared either way even if she had brought it up. Just as tactfully, she didn’t say anything about the bruise on Nagi’s face, from where Ren had elbowed Satevis earlier, nor her shirt collar, still half-unbuttoned, the tie lopsidedly unknotted. Rio’s voice had a distinctly light, conversational air, as though she walked in on this sort of thing every day. Which, Ren supposed, was somewhat true to an extent. He noticed her tucking a small jammer module back into her pocket. “Ready to go?”

Nagi stared at her. “Have you been lurking behind a tree, just waiting to jump out as soon as it looked like we were ready to go?”

Rio shrugged. “Maybe. Maybe not.” She glanced over her shoulder, jerking her head once. Val and Lia peeled away from the shadows rather reluctantly. Neither of them were looking at each other, or at Ren and Nagi, for that matter. Both seemed slightly worse for wear; Val was sporting a fine assortment of cuts and scrapes on her hands and face; Lia had a row of ragged gouges over her right shoulder, though it looked like the worst of it had been stopped by her thick coat. Rio slipped her hands into her pockets and smiled at each of them in turn. “Well then. Shall we?”


End file.
